


Captivated

by owlaholic68



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Paranoia, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23861509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlaholic68/pseuds/owlaholic68
Summary: Jacques either loves completely or not at all, and James is stuck dealing with someone who loves him so ardently he can hardly think of anything else, let alone take care of himself...
Relationships: James/Jacques
Kudos: 3





	Captivated

James hears rumors that the Mad Mage was sick.

“Good riddance,” people muttered. Quietly said that it was probably for the best. Whispered their hopes that perhaps the sickness would kill him.

It was hard not to cry hearing that. James manages to hold back tears until he returns to his bookstore, until he can lock himself away and break down. If – If Jacques was ill, he was all alone with nobody to take care of him, and goodness knows he could barely take care of himself normally…

It’s just past noon. The middle of the day. Too soon to go visit.

Or is it?

This is not the time to be a coward. James wipes his face on a lovely silk handkerchief that Jacques had embroidered. He takes a big drink of water and starts packing.

A basket full of groceries. Fruits and vegetables, milk, tea, bread, a leftover canteen of soup, a wrapped bundle of good hard cheese. A few delicacies are tucked away: Jacques’ favorites, including a few sticks of taffy candy that Jacques enjoyed gnawing on.

Food is done, now for other essentials. James carefully folds a change of clothing and stuffs it into a satchel meant for holding books, not clothes. It would be suspicious if he packed too much.

Before James can change his mind, he dons his cloak, puts the satchel over his shoulder, the basket in the crook of his arm, and leaves. Locks up his shop and unfolds his enchanted parasol to shield himself from the annoyingly harsh sun.

He stops by Daymark Supplies on his way out of town and requests some simple medicine ingredients. He lies about an old friend of his mother’s falling ill. He invents a story that he’s going to visit to bring some supplies to her. People hardly pay any attention to him anyways so they don’t hesitate to eat up the lie.

James hurries across the bridge out of town.

A few rocks on the path trip him up, distracted as he is with worry. He’s shaking so badly. He only hopes that his trembling legs will hold out long enough to get him to the tower.

His hopes are realized; he makes it.

He rings the doorbell and winces at the cacophony of noise it produces. His discomfort turns to worry when Jacques doesn’t answer.

He rings again. “Jacques?”

Finally it opens after the third ring.

Jacques looks like _shit._ His eyes are wide and darting about, eyelids reddened. His whole face is flushed, his hands shaking as he bites his fingernails. “J-James?”

“H-Hello,” James manages. “Someone – someone said you were sick?”

“Nonsense, not – not sick!” Jacques hacks a cough that nearly knocks him over. He waves James inside. “Not sick, it’s everyone _else_ that’s sick, so – so sick they can’t see straight, they – they must be imagining things!” He slams the door shut behind James. “I’m fine!” His voice cracks.

Oh _dear._ He’s in _terrible_ shape.

“I – I brought some food,” James offers. “The cheese and milk need to go in the icebox.”

“Of course!” Jacques’ voice is still too close to hysteria. He puts the groceries in the kitchen, still chewing alternately on his nails and a lock of his curly hair.

Adding to the ongoing list of bad signs: Jacques hasn’t chewed on his hair or nails for years, proud to have broken that habit. What’s more, there are no potions bubbling on the kitchen counter. He’s not working like he normally is – it’s rare to visit Jacques without him having at least twelve projects concurrently.

“Have you eaten today?” James asks. The shaking and odd mood could be due to hunger.

Jacques shrugs. “What time is it?”

“It’s about one o’clock.”

This increases Jacques’ confusion. “In the afternoon? The daytime?”

“Yes…”

“Then why are you here?” Jacques starts pacing. He looks out the window and only becomes more agitated. “It – it’s daylight, darling, and – and you just arrived, right? You walked here during the day? When it – when it’s light out?”

“Shh, shh – have you eaten? Or drank anything?” James puts his hands on Jacques’ shoulders. “Dear, concentrate. Did you have food today?”

Jacques starts shaking more. “Wh-what are you doing here, James? You – you can’t do this, it’s too dangerous for you to visit me during the day, you – you mustn’t, sweetheart, you – you can’t, you shouldn’t-”

“Jacques, Jacques, calm down-”

“You need to _leave!”_ Jacques puts his hands on James’ face, pulling him down to stare into Jacques’ crazed eyes. Eyes suddenly brimming with tears that roll down over Jacques’ feverish flushed cheeks. _“You can’t be here!_ It – it’s – I can’t lose you, James, I – I can’t!”

Him crying makes James tear up too. “And you won’t-”

“Yes, I will,” Jacques sobs. “Someone will – someone will see and they’ll hate you and they’ll hurt you, James, or worse. Or – or the whole town will realize what you are to me, what you _mean_ to me, James, and – and I can do a lot but I – but I can’t protect you from a whole town but I’ll try, I promise!”

“You haven’t eaten anything in days, have you?” James breaks away from Jacques. He’s crying now too but he needs to hold himself together. He dodges Jacques’ desperate grabby hands and tears a hunk of bread from the loaf. “You – you’re not taking care of yourself and – and it’s breaking my heart, Jacques!”

He shoves the chunk of bread into Jacques’ mouth to stop his panicked rant. By the time Jacques has finished chewing, James has another piece ready, this time with a slice of cheese. He starts to calm after another piece, giving James enough time to peel some carrots to offer. Jacques attacks those carrots with the ferocity of a broken man who hasn’t seen food in weeks.

James forces a glass of water into his hands and makes sure he drinks the entire thing.

“I – I’m sorry,” he cries after finishing.

“I know.” James slumps heavily on a stool. “It’s just that I worry, Jacques, and – and not eating like this scares me badly. You – you’re…” he sighs. “I love you, Jacques, and I want you to be okay. I want you to try to be better.”

“I know,” Jacques echoes. “I love you so much that I would do _anything_ for you, darling, I would, I would…” He yawns and rubs his eyes. “I’ll try to be better, I promise I’ll try. For you. You – you’re _everything_ to me, James. Everything. I’ll try.”

James comes around to hug him. “That’s all I ask. I’ll help. I can stay for a few days, okay?”

Jacques is still shaking like windowpanes in a storm. “I just don’t want to lose you.” He squeezes James tightly. “I can’t lose you. I can’t. But – but I will…”

“No you won’t.”

“Something – something bad will happen and then I will,” Jacques buries his head in James’ shoulder, sobbing again now. “I will lose you even if nothing bad happens because you’ll live so long and I won’t be there for you and – and I can’t take it, leaving you all alone, abandoning you-”

“Shh,” James soothes. He starts putting water on for tea. Starts toasting bread. “Don’t talk like that, dear. Don’t talk like that. Just relax. You’re not well right now.”

Jacques’ fit of paranoia tired him out enough that he only nods and leans against James. Dutifully drinks his tea and eats his toast, bright blue eyes half-lidded.

He lets James lead him upstairs to bed. James inwardly sighs at the disheveled mess of the bedsheets but helps Jacques change into nightclothes and lay down, piling quilts on top of him.

“Try to sleep,” he requests. “I – I’m not going to ask the last time you got any sleep because I fear it will upset me. But just try now, okay? Even just close your eyes and lay there if you can’t fall asleep.”

“Yes, James.” Jacques yawns and removes his glasses, giving them to James. “You’ll be here, won’t you?”

James bites his lip. “I – I was going to clean the house for you…”

“Stay. Please. Stay where I can hear you, at least.” Jacques rubs his eyes. “It will distress me if I don’t hear you, darling.”

“Fine, I’ll stay on this floor so you can hear me.” James kisses Jacques on the forehead. “I won’t be more than a few rooms away. I’ll hear if you call for me and I’ll come right away. Now just rest.”

Jacques closes his eyes and lays down.

James starts cleaning. Partly to distract himself, partly to cover the sounds of his own crying, and partly because Jacques’ office suite _really_ needs cleaning. How can he even get work done when his desk is piled up with papers and empty ink bottles?

About an hour later, Jacques starts softly snoring. James’ shoulders relax at the sound. He looks back to see Jacques’ awkwardly sprawled out on the bed, head half-falling off a pillow.

Fast asleep at last.

* * *

James trances for a few hours in a rocking chair at Jacques’ bedside before getting up at dawn.

He prepares an invigorating tea blend and considers breakfast. He decides to go up to the chicken coop and gather some eggs for a nice breakfast.

Jacques groans and rubs his eyes when James wakes him up later. “You’re still here,” he slurs, blinking confusedly.

“Yes I am. Here, I made breakfast.” James puts a tray in Jacques’ lap. It contained a cup of tea, a plate of eggs scrambled with mushrooms in the Drow fashion, and several pieces of toasted bread with copious amounts of soft spreadable cheese. He could use the protein.

His mage lover gapes at the spread for a minute before digging in with enthusiasm. James smiles to himself and eats his own breakfast. They get dressed and put the dishes away downstairs.

“James, darling…” Jacques leans against him and pulls him into the living room, pushing him down onto a couch and straddling him. “My dearest…”

“J-Jacques, you seem to – to have recovered,” James stammers at the unexpected passion. He hugs Jacques and kisses his cheek. “Feeling better?”

“Feeling _amazing.”_ Jacques’ eyes dart wildly around the room before settling on James’ face. Pupils slightly too large, gaze too intense. “I have you.”

James swallows hard. “Yes, dear, I’m here. I can stay for another night if you want.”

“I do want.” Jacques cocks his head to the side. Softly smiles. Cups his hands around James’ cheeks, stroking his face. “I don’t deserve you.” His smile drops. “I don’t.”

What to say to that? James sighs and leans into Jacques’ touch. “Dear-”

“Don’t _dear_ me,” he snaps. “It’s true and you know it. You’re too good for me.” He sighs and rests his forehead against James’. “I – I am nothing but a crazy piece of shit and – and you’re _everything_ wonderful and good in this world and – and I love you even though I shouldn’t be allowed to, I shouldn’t be allowed to do anything because all I do is ruin things and break things and I don’t deserve you-”

“Stop it!” James pulls back. “Don’t do that. J-Just don’t.”

Jacques’ despondent calmness ends and his anxiety returns. His hands lock into James’ hair. He can feel them shaking. “I can’t _not,_ it – it’s true and – and I can’t lie to you, sweetheart, don’t make me – don’t make me pretend that I’m somehow worth your time and attention. I’m not. I’m not.” He abruptly calms again. “But still you’re here.”

“But still I’m here,” James echoes. “And I will always be here. I promise.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. I love you, Jacques. I love you how you are.”

Jacques stares into his eyes for what feels like forever. At least several minutes stretch on. James shivers at the intensity. Sometimes he swears that Jacques is uncontrollably obsessed with him. Like if Jacques had his way, he would never look away.

“I love you,” Jacques eventually whispers. His grip on James’ hair loosens. He strokes his cheek one more time before settling in James’ lap. “I adore you, James darling, I hope you understand. I hope you understand how much it hurts.”

“How much it hurts?” James frowns. “Hurts how?”

“It hurts. It burns so terribly, my dearest, it burns. Loving you,” he buries his head in James’ chest and holds his hand, intertwining their fingers, “loving you is the most difficult thing because it _hurts_ so badly that I want to scream, I want to ignite this whole world so it can burn like loving you burns.”

Right, he’s veering into the part where he doesn’t make sense anymore. James squeezes his hand and strokes his back and listens without trying to understand. “It burns?”

“It burns,” Jacques echoes. “I want you so _bad,_ James. I’ve never wanted anything more in my entire life. Nothing. _Nothing_ matters as much as you. I just want you so badly.”

“You have me.”

“I do have you. But – but I don’t _have_ you.”

James shivers. “You don’t?”

“No, I don’t. Not completely. You aren’t happy. I want you happy, darling. I want – I want you to not be afraid. I want you to be safe and I want you to have everything that _you_ have ever wanted and – and I want to be with you forever.” He squeezes James’ hand too hard. _“Forever.”_

Jacques pauses his eerily calm rant to look up and frown. “Why are you crying?”

James quickly wipes his eyes but realizes he can’t stop crying. “I – I don’t know. You – you’re overwhelming me.”

“I’m sorry.” Jacques hugs him tightly. Too tightly. “I’m sorry I love you too much. I’m sorry I love you wrong.”

“No, no,” James doesn’t know how to explain what’s upsetting him, but Jacques is just making it worse. “It’s not that, that’s okay, I – I just worry for you when you get like this, Jacques. You get so worked up…”

“But you calm me down,” Jacques argues. “You’re calming me right now. Look, I’m calm, see? I can be however you want me to be.”

James sighs. “You don’t love me wrong. You love me right, just sometimes too strong. But I can handle it, dear. Don’t try to change who you are.”

Jacques stares for several minutes again. He finally looks down. “But who I am…” he frowns. “Never mind, darling. I don’t want to worry you. I’ll be with you forever and that’s all you need to concern yourself with. Forever, James, I promise.”

He leans back in to cuddle. More gentle and calm this time, but he whispers something that James barely catches with his keen Drow hearing.

“I _will_ be with you forever,” he whispers. “Forever. No matter what I have to do.”


End file.
